Chapter Four

          "BUT SERIOUSLY, WHY ARE YOU on a diet?" Munir asked again around a mouthful of spicy meat.

It was the second time he was ordering. Fatiha sighed as she bit into the flat and dried piece of meat in her hand, having no intention of telling him anything, but before she could even think about it words tumbled out of her mouth almost as if they had been waiting to reveal the little secret. "Faisal wants me to slim down a bit." She said, gasped, and then she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Munir only stayed quiet for a few seconds but those few seconds felt agonizingly longer to Fatiha. She didn't know what she had been expecting from him but when he began to laugh, Fatiha was suddenly reminded again of why he was her sworn enemy. Of why she despised him.

"What's funny?" she dared to asked.

"You are." He told her with a shake of his head, his shoulder's shaking with silent laughter. "Because I hope you don't plan on doing so. You're okay just the way you are."

You're okay just the way you are. It was the first time he had complimented her on her size rather than make fun of her, but Fatiha had years of torment under his name to dilute whatever honesty he threaded into his words.

She snickered scornfully. "Maybe," she snidely affirmed. "But then again, I've always been a private comic show for you, haven't I?"

The humor in Munir's eyes dimmed the moment he noticed the shift in emotions and atmosphere. "Fatiha, I didn't mean it like that."

With her heart thundering in her chest, Fatiha pushed back her seat and rose to her feet. Her eyes weren't glistening when she looked down at Munir's pleading ones, but she could feel the heat already smearing through her body and she knew that any moment from now her extremely dry eyes would betray her.

This was her fault. Her own doing. She'd had the chance to run but had stuck around. She couldn't lash out at Munir. He had tried to help in what way he thought was helpful. Her eyes were beginning to sting. God, she should have left when she had the chance to.

"I hope you had fun again today." She said and picked up her bag from the other plastic chair before turning to leave.

Munir was right at her tail as she reached the young lady with the POS machine. She pulled out her debit card and handed it to the other lady before telling her what it was she was paying for, all the while ignoring Munir as he tried to talk to her.

The fairly bleached lady in a burgundy button-up shirt with a tag that said Cashier and underneath it Rahmah worked on her system for a while, glancing eagerly between a quiet Munir and an oddly composed Fatiha. She finally handed the card back.

Fatiha looked at the blue and white card in her hand with her name engraved on it, then back up at the lady who had on a too-big smile on her made-up face, a question on Fatiha's pale one.

"Your partner has already made the payments." The turbaned lady shared, her smile growing annoyingly bigger. The red of her lips reminding Fatiha of the Joker.

Fatiha didn't snap at the girl, instead she nodded and resumed her walk, hoping that Munir would follow her. He did. Good.

When they got outside, far from preying eyes and listening ears, Munir grabbed a hold of Fatiha's hand to halt her movement.

She pulled her hand free from his grip, her eyes wide with horror as if he had scalded her with a coiling ring. "You should know not to touch a lady who's not your mahram." She snapped, her chest heaving from the unexpected contact and the fact that she was pissed off at herself.

"Ah..." Munir moved a step back. "Sorry."

Fatiha eyed him and before he could say anything else, she said, "Split it," her hand digging inside her Zara bag as she searched for her purse.

"Fatiha, will you please just listen to me?" Munir begged, eager to say something but Fatiha wasn't ready to listen.

Finally grabbing hold of the little leather wallet that came with her black bag, Fatiha opened it to check the amount of money in it. There were a few thousand and five hundred naira notes, all straightened out inside the narrow space of the wallet along with a couple of smaller change.

"Split it." She reiterated. "How much was it?" she queried.

Munir blew out a harsh breath as he roughly ran his hands over his face. "I was only trying to help."

"I know. That's why I'm angry at myself and not at you." Fatiha told him with a humorless laugh. "I don't know why I thought talking to you would help. I should have known we couldn't have a civilized conversation like civilized people. I should have known when you showed up out of nowhere and decided to play the hero. We haven't seen each other for years and the first time we do so it's like we're back in Aabidah's place and you're offering me that broken chair. And once again, I take it."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Munir begged. "It wasn't my intention to hurt you, I promise."

"It is that desperation for a seat. That desperation to talk to someone who would listen so badly that has brought me back here." Fatiha raised her hand then dropped it exhaustedly. "So, I am not angry at you but at myself for once again accepting the seat. Split the bill, Munir. I'll pay for what I ate. Tell Noor. I'll ask her for it and send the money through her. Assalamualaykum." With that Fatiha parted ways and began for her cousin sister's house.

—————

        THE FIRST IMPORTANT thing Fatiha Hassan did when she got back to Nasarawa, her hometown was to visit her fiancé's mother.

The older woman was nearly blind and quite fray, but she was a nice person. On the day of their engagement, Fatiha had had a talk with Faisal about how she wanted to help foot the bills for his mother's surgery. Faisal had been so furious. He adamantly refused the offer, wailing on about how she must think he was a charity case or something.

Fatiha had been so scared that day because she had never seen him that way. So angry and frustrated and hopeless.

After that little stir up, she had abstained from ever mentioning the topic again. But as she held the woman's hand and laughed with her, her heart ached for the family.

Faisal's father had died when he was just a little boy, so, naturally, his mother had struggled to feed and take care of herself and her two kids. Believing he was the head of the house, Faisal had grown up quickly for his age.

Fatiha's intentions had been nothing but honest. She had wanted to do something for the man she loved, help take a little burden from his stiff shoulders but had ended up being rebuked. Though, to be honest a selfish part of her had wanted to see the love the woman had for her kids and for her in those eyes.

Faisal's mother always gushed on about how Fatiha was such a beautiful girl, but she wondered if the woman would still think that way if she had her sight.

"My brother is not around. He traveled for work." Faisal's sister, Latifah, informed Fatiha a few minutes in to her arrival.

"Oh." But he hadn't mentioned it to her when she had called him early that morning. 

Fatiha stayed a little longer with her soon-to-be mother-in-law, only taking her leave when there seemed to be a change in her hostesses demeanor.

"Take care of mama, I'll come again." She called out to the girl two years younger than her. Her only response was a stiff nod.

The next couple of days, Fatiha felt like she was a participant in the Goblet of Fire.

It was getting hard to see Faisal by the day and even harder to reach him. He had started first with giving her excuses that he was busy with work. That she could understand because he worked multiple jobs at odd hours, so she couldn't blame him. But then he began to ignore her calls and texts, never calling back if she left a missed call.

It felt like she was always turning from one point to the other in search of her fiancé, but always ended up emerging empty handed.

Fatiha was sick. She was beginning to get paranoid. Her mother and aunties were starting to get suspicious and talk, and none of what they said were pleasing to her ears. Only Auntie Halima encouraged her to keep trying to get in touch with him.

It was another no call, no show day from Faisal. The rainy period had ended not too long ago, bringing in its wake sweltering and fatigue inducing heat. But regardless of the sweats forming at her temples and the visible wet patches in her armpits, Fatiha was snuggled in her bed, under her covers with her phone in her hand thinking about what she could have possibly done wrong for this to be happening.

There was a single knock on her door before her mother came in. Fatiha quickly rolled over to her side and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Are you going to stay inside again today?" Rashida Abdullah yelled at her eldest child in Hausa as she moved up to the drawn curtain and pulled them open, letting in the warm breeze and sunlight. "I told you I didn't like that boy, you did not listen. Now look! If he ends the relationship, Alhamdulillah. There are other men in town who are interested in marrying you. It won't be hard to find you another suitor."

Fatiha bit down on her tongue to keep from saying something harsh to her mother. Sure, her mother had never really liked the idea of her getting married to a struggling man, but Fatiha couldn't understand why she could not be like every other mother and at least sympathize with her.

"Lying down here would not solve anything," her mother went on now in English, and Fatiha could hear her moving around the room. "Go to his house and find out what is wrong. If he is no longer interested he should let us know instead of wasting our time."

"I'm sure you would be the happiest if that happens." Fatiha told her mother, unable to keep silent anymore.

"If it happens, it is Allah's will. I don't even know what you see in him. He can't provide for you."

"Please," Fatiha begged, moving to sit on her bed. "Money is not everything. If he can give me just enough and make me happy, then that's all I want."

Rashida tsked pitifully at her daughter. Her tanned face scrubbed clean. Other than the wrinkles around the edges of her eyes, Fatiha envied how flawless her mother's face looked even after all the years of being a fulltime housewife. Where her mother was big from multiple childbirths, Fatiha was naturally chubby, and sadly, the only fat one among her siblings. Fatiha and her mother looked alike in facial features but that was where the similarities ended. Her mother was spontaneous, she was not.

"You think happiness and just a little bit will get you through the years of marriage? You still have a lot to learn, my dear. Get up and go out, I don't want to see you in this house."

The door banged shut behind her mother. Fatiha let her head fall into her hands but decided that she did indeed need to get out. It would be good for her.

Without taking much of a look or care at her appearance, she pulled on a brown floor length hijab then left her house as she began the short walk up to Nooriya's, her head tucked under.

The green and white Madaki house with its famed and stoned designs was just a stone throw from hers. Fatiha mumbled greetings to the men gathered inside the compound as she hurried to her friend's room.

Nooriya was not in her room when Fatiha got there, so she made herself at home. Dropping down on the pillow stacked bed, Fatiha pushed most of them out of her way as she pulled out her phone from her pocket. She was drafting out a new message to Faisal when her friend stepped in with a tray loaded with junk food.

"Assalamualaykum, baby girl. How are you? I heard you've been skipping your meals." Nooriya dropped the tray on the wooden stool in her room, her red khimar pooling around her as she doubled over with the action.

"Wa'alaykum salam. I'm not hungry. I just want to lie down here in silence." Fatiha mumbled, curling into herself.

"No way." The skinnier lady shook her head and seized the phone from her friend's hand before pulling her up. "Come on, get up. Take this," she forced a toothbrush into Fatiha's hand before urging her in the direction of the bathroom. "You know where the toothpaste is. Go clean yourself up. There's kunu here. Basmah sent it yesterday."

Begrudgingly, Fatiha did as she was told. She went into the enjoined bathroom and shrunk back at the sight before her.

Two weeks. That was how long Faisal had began ignoring her. She was going crazy not knowing what had happened or if anything had happened and his family members were staying tight lipped about it.

Fatiha took in the dark circles under her eyes and the sunken depths of her cheeks. Her fair skin now had a gauntness to it. She ran a weak hand over her hips and noticed she had lost a little more weight. As she traced her hand over the curve of her waist line, she wondered if this was what Faisal wanted; she losing weight and nearly running mad from his silent treatment and absence.

She sighed. Thinking about it was just stirring her towards more negative thoughts. Fatiha shook her head, pushed the thoughts aside, then began brushing her teeth. She would get her answers when they meet.

But when will that be? A voice asked in her head.

Soon.

How soon?

She shook the voice away and focused on cleaning herself up. By the time she left the bathroom she felt and looked stronger and was now more than ready to accept company.

"Now you look better," Noor assessed, handing her a change of clothes.

Fatiha accepted it with a ghost of a smile. Since they both usually had sleepovers at each other's house it was natural for Noor to have some of Fatiha's clothes. Just like it was natural for her friend to have treats prepared when she was in a mood.

After changing, Fatiha sat down on the floor cross-legged beside her bestfriend who had flipped open her laptop and was already searching for a movie they could watch.

"Foreign or local?" she asked.

"Foreign." Fatiha answered in a heartbeat.

"Five Feet Apart or Miracle In Cell Seven?"

"Unbelievable. Why would I want to watch any of those?"

Noor shrugged a shoulder with a laugh then went back to searching. "The Little Women or Murder Mystery?"

"Little Women."

After settling comfortably on cushions they'd piled on the floor, Nooriya passed Fatiha a ear bud and a huge freshly baked chocolate cookie.

"Nothing like sugar and a good movie to help temporarily forget one's troubles." She muttered.

Nothing like eating something hot and spicy to help make the tears flow better.

Fatiha was suddenly reminded of the time she had spent with Munir Adam and the conversation they'd had. She recalled how the day had ended and realized that she hadn't seen him since that day partly because she had been busy with her life and had cooped herself up in her room. But it wasn't like she wanted to see him anyway.

It was best if they stayed apart. She told herself but soon found her mind wondering how he was for a split second. The movie started and Fatiha cleared her head of Munir Adam, pushing the thought of him to the recess just like she'd done with Faisal's.

"To temporarily forgetting our troubles and indulging ourselves in the lives of the March sisters." Nooriya gave a toast.

"Hear hear."

The girls hit their cookies like wine glasses in cheers before finally focusing on the movie.

***
Asalamu alaykum guys. Hope you all like the chapter. Don't forget to vote, comment  and share.

Take care.
Ma salaam.

                                    —ZainaHijabi😘